


Just Like Stars Burning Bright

by faeyydom



Category: Agent Carter (TV)
Genre: And a little bit of angst, But Not Much, Cartinelli - Freeform, F/F, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-01
Updated: 2015-03-01
Packaged: 2018-03-15 19:23:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,928
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3458945
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/faeyydom/pseuds/faeyydom
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><em>“Can I see them?” Angie whispered.</em><br/> <br/><em>Slowly, Peggy let the bathrobe slip down her right shoulder, the washcloth fell on the floor, but neither woman cared. She felt Angie's eyes burn when she took in the two small red scars on her shoulder.</em><br/> <br/>Three times Angie sees Peggy's old gunshot scars and tries to help.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Just Like Stars Burning Bright

_You are more than you seem_  
_You see into space_  
_I see in your face_  
_The places you've been_  
_The things you have learned_  
_They sit with you so beautifully_

_..._  

 

The first time Angie had seen her scars, it was totally unexpected. It had been raining for hours, and the cold, humid air had crept through the cracks of the old building, slowly seeping into her room at the Griffith. This kind of weather had always been a problem for Peggy. It made her old gunshot wounds ache, it made her whole shoulder stiff. It was generally a very unpleasant sensation.

She had tried everything to get rid of this dull pain, but so far, nothing had particularly helped much. Usually she would stretch her right arm above her head and move it around a couple of times, hoping it would release some of the build up tension. Sometimes she held a washcloth under some hot water and wrapped it carefully around the joint. The warmth could help from time to time, but it never fully took away the pain.

She had found that another persons warm hands did wonders, but since she was almost always alone, she had ruled out that option a long time ago. At first, she had tried to massage it herself, even rubbing some oil into it, but she was never able to fully reach the place she needed the touch the most.

Right now, due to the rain and her position on the bed, her shoulder hurt more than it usually did, and she tried her hardest not to move it more than absolutely necessary.

She was lying on her left side, evidently trying to take as much pressure off of her shoulder as she could. Her movements weren’t helping at all, but she was dying for some hot tea. It was Sunday, and usually she would use her free time more useful than this, but she couldn’t be bothered to move at the moment. The only thing she felt up to doing, was bringing a cup filled with the hot beverage to her lips from time to time.

The book in front of her was opened somewhere in the middle, but she gave up on reading a while ago. Instead she had settled for day dreaming while listening to the rain and the sounds coming from the building itself. It was kind of soothing in a weird way, hearing the other girls go about their daily routines and moving around.

After a while though, her shoulder grew more stiff, and she got up from her lying position to move it around a few times. When that didn’t work and only made it more painful, she stood up and looked around, trying to find a clean washcloth. She got one out of the closet and held it under a stream of warm water for a few seconds. Putting it down, she carefully removed her blouse so she could put it directly on her skin.

She let out a content sigh when she felt the warmth seep into the painful joint. She was standing in the middle of the room, the top of her body bare. Goose bumps erupted all over her arms and stomach, but the relieve she felt in her shoulder made it worth it.

Suddenly she was pulled out of her bliss when she heard someone knock rapidly on her door. But before she could tell them to wait, the door flew open and Angie barged in, totally unaware of the state Peggy was in until she noticed the other woman in the middle of the room.

“Hey Peg, I was wondering if you could- Oh my God, I'm so sorry!”

Angie averted her eyes and turned around so fast she almost lost her balance, her back now facing Peggy. She had her head turned down towards her feet, and even though Peggy couldn’t see her face, she knew the other woman was blushing furiously.

Even though they had been dating for a couple of months, they had never seen each other without their clothing on in broad daylight. Peggy always made sure that whenever they took part in an activity that required them to be bare skinned, that the light would be turned off. Peggy had never wanted the first time Angie would see her bare chested to be like this. She quickly covered herself up with her free arm and turned her back towards the other woman too. Fighting a quiver in her voice, she managed to speak.

“It's okay, Angie. Just... don’t look, okay?”

“Do you want me to leave?” Angie's voice sounded small.

“No, just give me a minute to put some clothes on.”

Peggy walked over to the bed and let out a hiss when her shoulder moved a little too violently. Instantly, Angie had turned around, momentarily forgetting about Peggy's undressed state. A worried look was painted on her features.

“Peg, are you okay? Are you in pain?”

“No, it's fine” She wanted to reassure the woman, but by doing so, she waved her arm around, making another jolt of pain erupt in her shoulder. This time, she couldn’t contain the louder hiss from escaping, and she immediately looked down, avoiding the gaze of the other woman in the room.

She reached out and her hand got hold of her bathrobe. She quickly put it on, ignoring the pain.

“You can look now.”

Within a second, Angie was by her side. The woman let her eyes wander over Peggy's body, obviously looking for blood or any other visible sign of an injury. When she didn't see any, her eyes met Peggy's.

“What's wrong?” The seriousness of her tone made Peggy want to avoid her eyes, but she couldn't.

“Nothing's wrong, Angie.”

“Sure? Cause I think something is wrong. You are clearly in pain.” She sounded hurt. “Please let me help?” Her voice was soft, almost pleading when she spoke out the last words.

Peggy felt her resolve crumbling down as she locked eyes with the woman. The pain was written all over Angie's face, and Peggy couldn’t bring herself to say no. No matter how much she wanted to.

“It's just my scars. Due to the current weather they have been bothering me all day. I swear, its nothing.”

“Can I see them?” Angie whispered.

Slowly, Peggy let the bathrobe slip down her right shoulder, the washcloth fell on the floor, but neither woman cared. She felt Angie's eyes burn when she took in the two small, red scars on her shoulder.

Neither woman said anything for a long time. Peggy didn’t know what to say, she wasn’t sure what Angie wanted her to say, what she wanted to hear. So she said nothing and awaited for the other woman to speak. The longer Angie kept silent, the more anxious Peggy felt. Deep down she knew that she didn’t have to worry, Angie would never hurt her or turn her down, certainly not because of this, but the tense silence made her unable to think rationally.

After a few tense minutes, Angie finally opened her mouth, and it looked like she was about to say something, but then she closed it again, lips pressed tightly together. Then she reached out and pulled the bathrobe back onto Peggy's shoulder, evidently making the scars disappear from view.

“Who did that to you?”

It was a simple question, yet the answer was rather difficult for Peggy to explain, so she turned towards Angie and took her hand in hers.

“That's a story for another time.”

She hoped Angie wouldn’t ask any further questions because she wasn’t ready yet to tell her about any of this. Thankfully for her, Angie nodded her head and slowly leaned in, pressing a soft kiss on Peggy's lips.

She whispered in her ear, “I will listen when you’re ready to talk about it.”

She kissed her again, and in this moment, Peggy couldn't be more thankful for someone like Angie in her life. Not knowing how to explain, she instead kissed her harder, hoping it would tell Angie what she couldn’t say with words.

 

/// 

 

The second time Angie saw her scars was three weeks later. Ever since Peggy had told her about the ones on her shoulder, Angie had been paying close attention to the weather and Peggy's behaviour. By now she had noticed what kinds of outside conditions would make the agent's shoulder stiff and how Peggy's mood would change drastically. No matter how hard she would try to hide it, Angie could always tell when the scars were bothering the other woman.

Today was no different, the slight frown on Peggy's face and how she would tighten her jaw just a little more than usual were a dead give away, but Angie hadn’t mentioned it yet. She wanted to give her a chance to bring it up herself, but so far she hadn’t.

They were on the bed, body's pulled flush against each other, Peggy's backside against Angie's front, leaving just enough space between them for Angie's hands to wander over Peggy's side. Peggy felt relaxed, she could feel Angie's soft breath tickle her neck and she could hear the woman's heartbeat if she listened really carefully. The rest of the room was peacefully quiet.

“I think I may have something that could help.” Angie said, breaking the silence.

“Help with what?”

“Your shoulder.” Angie simply said.

“What do you mean?”

“Don't pretend like it doesn’t hurt, Peggy. I know you better than you think.”

Peggy's eyes wandered downwards, fixing her gaze on Angie's hand that was now resting on her upper arm, grasp firm, but not restricting. She could get up and walk away and not talk about it, but something inside her made her unable to even move a muscle, let alone escape out of this comfortable hold her lover had on her.

“I know you do.” It was said so softly Angie almost missed it.

“Come on, I need to get something out of my room.” Angie said.

Peggy slowly tried to sit up, not meeting Angie’s eyes though she felt her gaze burn on her lower neck.

“No, you stay put. I won't be long.” Angie told her. “Don't disappear on me while I'm away.”

Peggy knew she meant it jokingly, but her reply was serious, “I won't.” Finally meeting Angie's eyes.

“Good.” With that, Angie left the room, leaving the door open behind her.

Peggy let her body lean back against the bed, blowing a strand of hair out of her face while she was waiting for Angie to return. It took the woman longer than she thought, but after a good ten minutes she returned to Peggy, clutching something in her hand that Peggy couldn’t immediately identify. But seeing as it was Angie that was holding it, the chance of it being something dangerous were extremely small.

“What is that?” Peggy asked none nonetheless.

“You mentioned a while ago that sometimes rubbing oil on it helps, so I bought this.” Angie answers and shows Peggy a small purple bottle.

“When did you buy that?”

“The other day. The weather prediction said it would rain the next few days, so I wanted to be prepared.”

Peggy feels her throat close up with emotion. Never before did she have someone who cared so much about her as Angie did, and she didn’t really know what to do with it. So she just rasped out a soft thank you and gave the woman a small smile.

“You don’t have to thank me, English.” Angie gave her a warm smile in return. “Now roll over so I can make myself useful.”

Peggy did as she was told, and the bed dipped in when Angie sat down next to her. Now that Peggy was lying on her stomach, she could only see Angie partially. She felt the woman's soft hands gently pull down the right side of her night gown and exposing her shoulder, placing a featherlight kiss just above the source of the pain.

She could hear how Angie opened the glass bottle and dripped some of its contents on her hands. The scent of lavender hit her nostrils and she inhaled deeply.

“I am going to touch you now, okay?” Angie said, rubbing her hands together in attempt to warm them up a little.

“Yes.” Peggy said and within seconds, she could feel soft fingers on her bare skin.

Angie let her hands wander over Peggy's shoulder, making sure not to push down too hard and accidentally hurting the other woman. When Peggy let out a sigh, she grew a little bolder. She extended to the woman's neck and upper arm, rubbing up and down. Every time her fingers would reach the small scars, she would draw a few circles around them, never fully touching them.

Peggy seemed to notice this, and after a couple minutes she spoke, “You can touch them, Angie.”

“Are you sure? I don’t want to hurt you.”

“I am sure.”

“Okay.” Angie breathed out.

She had never touched them before, only looked at them from a safe distance. She was a little hesitant of making the tips of her fingers touch them. It would make everything so much more real. Someone had shot Peggy, and to this day the woman had to live with it. It made Angie furious, but she pushed that away.

This was about Peggy, not about her.

Slowly, she inched her index finger closer to one of the red marks. Her breath hitched slightly when her finger came in contact with the rough skin. It felt odd, but she pushed herself to move on anyway. The skin was thicker here, the scar tissue even felt different than the skin surrounding it.

“It's okay, Angie.” Peggy softly said, as if she knew what Angie felt.

“I know, it just... takes a while to get used to.”

“You don't have to do this.”

“What are you talking about? I was the one who suggested it in the first place wasn’t I?” Trying to lighten the mood, she added, “And besides, it would be a waste to use this expensive oil just to give you a fancy massage now, wouldn’t it.”

Peggy let out a small chuckle but didn’t say anything after that, letting her body speak for her instead. The way her shoulder felt less tense after a while, and how she had her eyes closed and her lips slight parted told Angie that whatever she was doing, it was working.

The smell of lavender had a soothing effect, and it wasn’t long before Angie heard Peggy's breathing even out. She smiled to herself.

“Feeling better, English?” She whispered, knowing there wouldn’t be a reply.

Peggy let out a soft hum and the corner of her lips turned upwards.

“I'll take that as a yes.”

Angie cleaned up after herself, washing her hands and putting the bottle on the night stand. She curled up around Peggy and pressed a soft kiss to the shoulder that still smelled like lavender.

“Thank you.” Hearing Peggy's voice startled her. Even half asleep, the English woman was polite.

“No problem, Peg.”

Both fell in a peaceful sleep, curled around each other in a room that held the smell of lavender oil and warmth.

 

///

 

The third time Angie saw her scars, it was the middle of the night and Peggy had just woken up from a nightmare. It was one she had had before, many times before, and this time it hadn’t been any different than the ones before, but for some reason she felt worse than usual.

She had woken up the sleeping woman beside her, and Angie's questioning eyes looked down at her.

“You alright?” She sounded hoarse and sleepy.

“Yeah, just a nightmare.” Peggy explained.

Angie sat up, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“It's nothing, really.”

Angie placed her hand on Peggy's, “Peg, we are in this together okay, you can tell me.”

“You are too good for me, Angie.” Peggy said under her breath, followed by a deep sigh.

Angie just smiled at her, encouraging Peggy to talk about her dream.

“I dreamt about when I got shot.” Peggy tells her, her voice soft and uncertain. “It was on a warm summer evening, some guys and me had the night watch. They were drinking, trying to stay awake, and none of them were paying attention. It wasn’t until the first shots were fired that it dawned on them that we were under attack.”

Peggy paused, the memory wasn’t a good one. She felt Angie's hand cover her own, and it gave her strength to continue. She took a deep breath.

“There were so many, too many. The five of us were against at least thirty of them, and it all looked hopeless. We had already lost two of our men, and we had no chance of winning unless we surrendered. By that time, most of the soldiers in the camp had woken up, and even though we were with more men now, the enemy still had the advantage on us.” She paused again, taking another breath before continuing.

“From that point it’s all a bit blurry. All I remember is a lot of screaming and shots being fired. I woke up a day later in a hospital bed, some doctor telling me I had been shot in the shoulder. The worst had yet to come though. As I was told later, I was one of the only ones that had survived, since I had been crouched behind one of the tents.” She lowered her head.

“I kept thinking, what if I had done more, what if I had been able to save more people? Would I have survived as well? To be honest, back then I didn’t really care. All I could see before me were the families that lost their brothers, fathers or even sons. I wondered why it had been me who was spared.”

“That's the part of the dream that makes me wake up. I wake up with the sad and judging eyes of the people I didn’t even know, and never will know.”

Angie is quiet for a second. Then she starts talking.

“I am glad you survived. I know that doesn’t mean an awful lot coming from me, but without you, I could have never become who I am now. It is you who cheers me up after countless auditions without any result, or who tells me I matter after a long day at the Automat. Without you, Peggy, I would have given up long ago.”

Angie placed a comforting hand on Peggy's shoulder, pulling her closer. “Sure, that doesn’t mean those other families won't ever be sad again. But maybe it can help you stop blaming yourself. You did the best you could in that situation.  
Wars are never the fault of the soldier, you know.”

Peggy sniffed and lifted her head so she could look Angie in her eyes.

“Of course it means something coming from you. It means everything.” Her eyes started to tear up, and Angie knew it was time to change the subject.

“Did it hurt?”

“I don’t remember actually getting shot, but the weeks after that were rather uncomfortable, yes.”? Peggy regained herself, being able to answer the questions Angie had for her.

She hated being emotional, crying never did her any good. And Angie knew that, and for that Peggy was thankful.

“Do you know who shot you?”

“No.”

“What do you feel when you see the scars on your shoulder?”

“I don’t hate them. It's just the memory that is attached to it that I don’t like.”

“The memory your nightmare is about?” Angie already knew the answer, but she felt the need to ask anyway.

“Yes.”

Angie seemed deep in thought for a moment. Suddenly she spoke, “I have an idea that might help.”

“Care to tell me?” Peggy asked.

“I have this old paintbrush somewhere from when I wanted to learn how to pain.” Angie smiles.

“Yes..?”

“It might be a very stupid idea, and I don’t even know if it works but I heard some girl talk about this years ago and I thought we could maybe try it. I mean, no harm in tryin' right?” She was rambling, and she desperately wanted to close her mouth, but she couldn’t stop talking.

“What is it, Angie?”

“I can try to paint something nice on your shoulder. You know, to maybe give the scars another, a nice, meaning.” She looked down, trying hard not to let her face flush, but failed miserably.

“That sounds really nice.” Peggy assured her, even cracking a small smile.

“Really?” Angie's head shot up, she was surprised. She had never thought Peggy would like the idea.

“Yes.” The older woman smiled warmly.

“I will try to find it then.”

Angie got up from the bed, sleep long forgotten. She rummaged through the drawers and cupboards, finally locating the old, dusty paintbrush somewhere on the back of a shelf.

She turned around, “I am afraid I don’t have any paint left.”

“No problem, I am sure water will do just fine.”

Angie filled a cup with some cold water and moved back to the bed, brush and water in hand.

Peggy was already sitting up, her back towards Angie and her upper body bare, brown hair thrown over her left shoulder.

Angie leaned closer and softly kissed one of the scars, then she moved down a little and pressed her lips to the other one.

“This might be a little cold.” She warns before gently placing the paint brush on Peggy's skin.

There is a sharp intake of breath, but other than that, Peggy seemed fine.

“Told you it would be a little cold.” Angie laughs.

“Just get on with it.” Peggy says, smile evident in her voice.

Sitting in complete silence other than the sounds of their breathing and the rustle of fabric, Angie starts painting.

She circles around the red dots on the skin, drawing a heart around them, one scar on each side. Due to the lack of paint and having to use water instead, she can keep on dragging the paintbrush over the skin. She makes more hearts, stars and circles, letting them overlap.

After a while, she stops.

Peggy makes a soft sound of displeasure, but it dies in her throat when she feels Angie's lips on her shoulder again. Angie traces every line she made with the paintbrush with her lips, pressing soft kisses on the skin that is still a little damp from the water. She nuzzles Peggy's neck with her nose, laughing quietly when a giggle erupts from the woman in front of her.

They spent the rest of the night kissing in silence, and after Peggy moved the cup of water and brush to the side, they lie down next to each other. She brings her hand up and touched Angie's cheek, caressing it carefully.

“I love you.” She says, kissing the corner of Angie's mouth.

Angie is taken aback for a second. Peggy is never really open about her feelings, but she soon recollects herself and smiles.

“I love you too, English.”

From that moment on, whenever she returns to her old dream it's now Angie's reassuring face that she sees instead of the old, sad ones. It's always followed up by the younger woman's soft hands, brush and lips on her skin.

It was a far more pleasant memory.


End file.
